A Parent's Pain
by Barbara
Summary: Just what sort of nightmares does Sandoval have?


A Parent's Pain

By Barbara

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Sandoval sighed in weariness.  Earlier in the day, he and a group of Volunteers had raided a suspected Resistance base.  It had been almost completely evacuated before their arrival, but they had still played tag with the remaining Resistance members for what seemed like hours.  He had been cut off from the Volunteers and had had to go to ground in the building.  There were too many Resistance members around for him to be able to kill them all before they killed him so he had had to hide.  He was just lucky their base was a huge warren of a building.  

He had wandered through a number of rooms trying to find a way back to the Volunteers, or to find any of the remaining Resistance members.  One of the rooms he had slipped into had clearly been a child's.  In fact, there seemed be a couple of children's rooms in the base.  This one in particular had caught his attention.  It was obviously that of a small boy- the books and toys showed that clearly.  But the item that had caught his attention had been the bloody boy's shirt in the corner.  He had been looking for any hidden passages- buildings like this were honeycombed with them- when he had found it.  For a few seconds his mind had wandered to the boy who had worn the shirt, and he had wondered how the blood had gotten on it.  But then the sound of weapons' fire had drawn him back to the battle being waged, and he had discarded it.

The battle had been a fierce one, resulting in the deaths of four Resistance members and one Volunteer.  No Resistance members had been captured alive.  

With a sigh, Sandoval sank down into the comfort of his bed, falling immediately asleep.

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He looked around the room in amazement.  Where was he?  He had never been here before.  He couldn't even remember how he had gotten here.  It was a child's room, much like the one in the Resistance base.  A young boy, perhaps eight or nine, was busy playing with toy soldiers on the floor.

Suddenly, the room darkened and a shape appeared in the doorway.  The shape seemed to exude menace, though Sandoval was unable to see any features.  The child got up, and as if sensing the menace emanating from the figure began to back up into the corner of the room.  Sandoval tried to step forward to reassure the child, only to discover that he couldn't move.  And calling out to the boy seemed to have no effect- he seemed unable to hear Sandoval.

The man advanced menacingly to the boy, who cowered in a corner.  Pulling off his belt, he grabbed the child and tossed him on the bed.  As the boy whimpered, "No, no, please, no," the man pulled the boy's shirt out of his pants and almost over his head, entangling his arms.  The child's back was covered with bruises, Sandoval was horrified to see.  Once again he tried to move forward to protect the child, but he couldn't move from his location.  No matter how much he strained himself, he couldn't move!  Then, Sandoval tried yelling at the man, trying to divert his attention from the child.  "What are you doing?  Let him go! He's just a child!"  Sandoval yelled, but neither the man nor the boy seemed to hear a word he said.

Grabbing hold of the end of the belt the man stepped back and gave it an experimental swing.  "Shut up kid," he snarled as he tripped the child, forcing him to fall back onto the bed he had just tried to escape from.  Then he started beating the boy with the buckle end of the belt, all the time growling, "He hurts me, I hurt him.  Your _father," he twisted the word, "hurt my friends, and I'm going to hurt you.  You're nothing but trouble, just like that stupid Protector father of yours."  With each statement, he swung the belt hard, the buckle making a sharp slapping sound as it hit unprotected flesh.  The boy's moans grew with each blow, until he was sobbing into the bedspread.  "Shut up, kid.  You don't stop whimpering, I'll show you real pain."  With that statement, he pulled the child's head back by his head and bent down until he looked the boy in the face.  "You want me to do that, huh?  I can show you real pain, like what that bastard Sandoval does to my friends when he gets them up there on the mothership for his __interrogations," he said, virtually spitting the last word._

Tears leaking from his eyes, the child replied, "No."

"No, what?" the man virtually snarled.

"No, sir," the boy replied sniffling.

"Then take your punishment like a man," he said, letting go of the child's hair, allowing his head to  fall back onto the bed.  Sandoval watched in horror as the man began hitting the child again.  The man beat the boy for what seemed like forever, but the entire time the boy did not let out another moan.  His face was scrunched up as he cried into the bedspread but he never said another word.  Try as he might, Sandoval couldn't move, couldn't even distract the man from beating the boy, from beating his _son bloody.  Sandoval raged against whatever bonds held him, but after a while the anger turned to pain as he was forced to stand by, unable to stop the man from hurting his child.  And then, the man turned into himself, but he kept beating his son.  He was beating his own son!  He struggled harder, hoping that since it was now his double, his thoughts could influence the double.  He tried desperately to mentally reach out to his duplicate, to stop him harming his son, but his efforts were futile._

Tears were rolling down Sandoval's face when his double finally stopped the beating.  By then, the boy's entire back was covered with welts from the buckles, several of which were oozing blood.  His double's rage finally spent, he put his belt back on and left the room, completely ignoring the crying child.

Try as he might, Sandoval had been unable to even approach his son.  He collapsed to the floor, his anger spent, as he watched his child cry into the bed.  Tears trickled down his cheeks.  _He's hurting my son because of what I did.  It's my fault my boy's in pain, he thought wretchedly. _

Just then the door opened, and Kincaid walked through carrying a wet towel.  _What the hell is he doing here?_

"I'm sorry," Liam told the boy.  "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him.  I can't do anything to stop him."  With that he laid the wet towel against the child's back.

Sandoval listened in anguish as his son cried out, "Why does Daddy hate me?  Why does he hurt me?"  His son turned to look directly at him and asked, "Why do you hurt me?"

His anguished, "I don't, I didn't mean to," was overpowered by Kincaid's reply.

"I don't know why he hurts us.  I guess you only hurt the ones you love.  Or maybe," and suddenly Liam was looking directly at him too, "you hurt the ones who love you the most."

With that phrase echoing in his mind, Sandoval woke up.

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End file.
